Strong Beers Reign Here: Ryewine by Giant Jones Brewing & Starkweather Brewing

Better late than never, I always say.

The last time I reviewed a beer by Madison’s Giant Jones was back in March when I gave the Baltic Porter they brewed with their neighbors down the street, Working Draft Beer Co., a spin. It wasn’t bad, but it wasn’t particularly Baltic Portery to me.

“No big shakes,” I thought to myself. “After all, they now have a beer brewed with the best grain ever to sprout from the ground out. I will follow this up with their ryewine shortly and that will surely be good.”

Well, that was the plan.

I eventually got my hands on the ryewine that Giant Jones brewed with then rather new Starkweather Brewing in late March. “It’s too warm for a ryewine today,” I’d say. “When another cold day comes around, I’ll pop that bottle open.”

You know what they say about the best laid plans…

Cold nights never arrived or I just wasn’t in the mood for a ryewine when there was a chill in the air or I simply had some excuse I cannot recall. The upshot is that, before I knew it, everything was all verdant outside and it had gotten warm so I put my small stash on the door of the refrigerator for safekeeping.

“Don’t you worry,” I told the bottle reassuringly, “I’ll see you again come the autumn.” And, just as it does every year, the autumn came and I made good on my promise one chilly night recently.

It says here that Germany, Poland, and Russia account for the bulk of the world's annual rye production. (Furthermore, Germany only grew more wheat than rye in 1957. Old habits die hard, I guess.) Now, I have German and Polish blood so I suppose it’s little surprise that I love rye.

Someone else who loves rye is (or was?) Peter Schieberle. A food scientist of some stripe, apparently, he has co-authored papers such as “Potent odorants of rye bread crust-differences from the crumb and from wheat bread crust” and “Quantitation of odor-active compounds in rye flour and rye sourdough using stable isotope dilution assays”.

What I gather from the abstracts of these papers is that some of the more potent contributors to rye’s flavor are octenone which offers a mushroom-like taste, methional’s cooked potato flavor, and the green, fatty flavor of nonenal.

Huh. The More You Know*.

The crack beer reporter of our alt-weekly Isthmus, Robin Shepard, broke the news in early November that Giant Jones would soon have a new bottling machine and more brewing capacity which will allow them to distribute to more areas around the state. Considering all of their beers are big, potent brews made from certified organic ingredients and that they seem to offer only 1 IPA, it’s heartening to see them expanding.

My pour was graced with only a small, white head of foam and it was not keen on sticking around very long. The beer was a lovely golden hue with a slight haze to it. There were a few bubbles to be seen inside. It smelled strongly of honey with another floral scent as well. Adding to the sweetness component was a hint of caramel. In opposition were spicy hops, the delicious & nutritious rye, and that astringent boozy smell. (This stuff is 10.4% A.B.V.)

Mild carbonation did its best against a medium-heavy body that had a strong honeyed flavor to it. Those spicy hops were rather prominent on the tongue and, when combined with the rye, made a nice, sharp riposte to the sweetness. A boozy heat was present too. On the finish those hops really came to the fore with a solid bitterness and dryness. That boozy heat lingered a bit as some of the honey flavor stuck to my tongue.

Man, this was really good stuff. It was very smooth and that silky mouthfeel only increased as the beer warmed. The brewers did everything perfectly to keep the malt sweetness in check as it never got cloying to my taste and they kept the body rather light. I was expecting something richer, chewier so this was surprising. Sweet but spicy.

Junk food pairing: pair this ryewine with a bag of Annie's Extra Cheesy Cheddar Smile Puffs. You will keep the organic theme going and all of that extra cheese will make a nice, mellow counterpoint to the beer's sharp hop and alcohol flavors.

Drinkin' Ryewine, Spo-Dee-O-Dee: Ryme & Punishment by Parched Eagle Brew Pub

Last year, when it was much warmer than it is now, I saw that the Parched Eagle here in Madison had a ryewine, a cousin of the English barleywine, on offer. I love rye so of course I headed over there and bought some. But, if brewmaster/ proprietor Jim Goronson thinks I am going to drink a big (10%), treacly, maltfest of a brew in the baking heat of a Wisconsin summer, he is out of his mind. The brave(/crazy) English explorers saved the big brews like Allsopp's Arctic Ale for when they were up in the godforsaken wastes of northern Canada. At home they surely drank the milds, bitters, or whatever brews of lesser potency as they argued in drawing rooms about the location of the Northwest Passage, shot random footmen for sport, and other such activities favored by the English aristocracy at the time. So I cellared a bomber of the stuff to be retrieved when the Fimbulwinter had settled upon us. On a recent winter's day, the high never reached double digits and so it was the perfect weather for the heady, rye-laced elixir.

In addition to ryewines, there is the aforementioned barleywine, but I have also seen wheatwines.

 

"So," you're thinking, "how can a beer be a wine?"

I recall being similarly perplexed back in c. 1992 when I encountered my first barleywine, Old Nick. But I was intrigued as well. And how can you go wrong with a picture of the Devil (or was it Machiavelli?) himself on the label? The explanation I was offered then and continue to labor under now is that these grain-wines are simply very strong ales that have alcohol levels approaching that of wine. Now, exactly how much wheat or rye is required to be branded a wheat- or ryewine is unknown to me. I suppose as much as the brewer wants.

To the best of my knowledge, the barleywine is English in origin but it's more of a marketing term and not a distinct style per se like the double dry hopped barrel aged milkshake IPA with vanilla and cocoa nibs is. I suppose there's a whole taxonomic rabbit hole to go down regarding what exactly constitutes a "strong ale". English beer historians such as Martyn Cornell will no doubt offer a definition that differs from that given by ignorant bloggers like me. I generally think of these grain-wines as being 10%+ A.B.V. and brownish in color. Yeah, not exactly a model of precision here, I know. Oh, and American versions - quelle surprise! - are usually hoppier than English ones.

About 30 seconds of internet searching revealed that the wheatwine is supposedly an invention of the late 1980s and hails from California. I find the idea that British brewers never made a strong ale with wheat unlikely but, then again, I am no Martyn Cornell. I found nothing on the question of the genesis of the ryewine. With rye being much more prevalent and desirable in northern and eastern Europe, I am doubtful that the ryewine originated in Ol' Blighty and find it likely to be another American invention. But stranger things have happened.

 

It was a chilly afternoon indeed when I poured the first glass of Ryme & Punishment. There was no head to speak of which I suppose wasn't surprising considering this was an English-style brew or English-style-adjacent, at least. But my glass was filled with an absolutely gorgeous elixir that was a deep amber and clear. Watching the beer flow, it just looked thick and viscous and by its appearance alone one could tell it was a heady brew. Taking a whiff, I caught a prominent raisin smell along with big malty sweetness and slightly less of a generic grainy scent.

Remember how I said above that this stuff looked thick as it flowed into my snifter? Well, it tasted that way. This beer had a heavy body - just as expected - almost syrupy. Despite the paucity of bubbles, I still tasted a light fizziness but it was unable to hold its own against the rich, grainy sugariness that had a plum-like flavor to it. There was also that spicy rye to be had. Mmmm...great stuff. I was unsurprised when that sweetness lingered after I swallowed but a measure of herbal/spicy hops added welcome dryness. It was this point that some boozy heat kicked in and wrapped my tongue in its burning folds for a bracing conclusion.

What a fantastic winter warmer/strong ale/whatever you call these kinds of beers! It was thick and sweet yet the hops and booze (10% A.B.V.) kept it from being cloying. I should add that this was a pleasantly smooth beer. However, I didn't taste Ryme & Punishment fresh so I am unsure how much of this was inherent in the brew and how much, if any, can be attributed to my mad cellaring skillz.

Sadly, we will likely have to wait until the coming warmer months for another batch of this stuff. But, when it's on offer, do avail yourself of the opportunity to get some to stow away until next winter.

Junk food pairing: I am a believer in pairing locally so grab some jalapeno cheddar potato chips from Madison's finest chip purveyor, Slide.